What He's Always Wanted
by Artificial Lines
Summary: He slit it open quickly and unfolded the parchment inside. [mentions of mpreg]


**A/N: **Written for livejournal challenge. Prompt was the summary.

**Beta: **Nzomniac

Seamus stumbled into the kitchen of his flat around noon, very disgruntled by the discovery of an empty pillow next to him when he woke instead of the warm body he had been hoping for. He sighed and threw himself into a wicker chair, pushing his fringe away from his sweat covered brow. He felt oddly queasy. Pulling his wand from the waistband of his briefs, with a flick the stereo his mum had gotten him for his 25th birthday came to life in the middle of his favorite playlist.

He slid over the linoleum in his socks to the stove to put on a pot of water. "_Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two,_" he sang under his breath, poking the kettle with his wand impatiently, making it shake and steam. "That's more like it," he smirked.

He skated his way over to the cabinet over the sink, pulling out a bag of Twining's Darjeeling tea. The blond shuffled back to his chair, blowing steam off the cooling water. He dropped the bag into the mug with a splash causing the contents to spatter onto his hand. "Shite!" he gasped, sucking the finger into his mouth.

He watched color steep into the water, much too slowly in his opinion; he needed his tea fix soon. "_Give me your heart and your soul and I'm not breaking down,_" he muttered, tapping his foot and swirling his tea with a finger. When it was finally a dark enough color and the appropriate amount of sugar had been dumped in, he took a long gulp.

The combination of a burning sensation at the back of his throat and a tapping at the window caused him to cough and sputter. Mail this late in the day? His husband usually took care of that in the morning, leaving the _Prophet _out for him to peruse at will. He slowly approached and unlatched the window to let the standard mail owl in.

It held a heavy cream envelope addressed to him in typewritten print. He fed the bird a corner of food broken off of the pound cake on the counter and sent it off.

He slit it open quickly and unfolded the parchment inside. _St. Medard's Hospital for Magical Conception and Delivery _was stamped in big letters across the top of the paper, the crest of an eagle sheltering an infant from the rain stood in the top left corner. Seamus' breath caught in his throat.

He lowered the paper down to the table with a shaking hand and worried his bottom lip. He knew he should wait until Dean was back from wherever he was on the Sunday afternoon, but…but how could he just let the letter sit there unread? Dean would understand; he knew his spouse was never one to wait for something he so _desperately _wanted.

He took a deep breath as his eyes found the parchment and scanned over the niceties and skipped to the part that held what he wanted to know.

A tingling sensation started in his toes and traveled up his legs at an alarming rate until it reached his face where it broke out into the largest grin Seamus could ever remember having. He didn't realize he was shaking until he heard the sound of quaking paper, and he certainly didn't notice he was crying until a tear ran over his open lips.

He let out a giddy bark of laughter he couldn't hold back anymore when he heard a key fitting into place in the door's lock. He grabbed the paper and dashed out of the kitchen and past the large windows in the living room (where the lady across the way always got a good show when Seamus got a proper seeing to on the sitting room's couch) to the front door.

The paper grocery bags in the dark man's arms went crashing to the floor only to be replaced with a sobbing, lanky blond. Seamus heard glass shattering below his feet but he couldn't be arsed to care. "Seamus?" Dean ventured, gently squeezing the man in his arms, unable to decipher the words being mouthed into the skin of his neck. He glanced around the flat but couldn't see anything visibly wrong. "What's the matter?"

"Dean," Seamus pulled back as Dean leaned against the entrance way wall to balance the weight--Seamus wasn't _that _much smaller than the other man. Seamus couldn't seem to get the words out but settled for capturing the lips he hadn't tasted since the night before.

"What is it?" Dean encouraged, brushing away a tear from under Seamus' water-matted eyelashes after regaining the ability to speak. When what Seamus had deigned on their wedding night as _their song_ came on, he finally was able to say it. "I'm pregnant!" He choked out through his grin, "I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant!" He crushed his husband with his arms and legs, saying it over and over into the other man's chest, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh Seamus," murmured Dean, matching smile splitting his face. He pushed off the wall and swung around in a circle, spinning them both, their light-headed laughter and declarations of love and devotion bouncing off the walls. Seamus' weight finally got the better of his balance and they collapsed onto the couch in an ecstatic heap.

"The letter just came," Seamus breathed letting the parchment slip through lax fingers as Dean kissed his way down his naked chest.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," Dean stammered in awe, his gaze captivated by his laid out spouse.

"Well, you'd better be good to me when I'm cranky and have cravings for peanut butter swirl ice-cream," Seamus said in a serious voice, poking the other in the side.

"Speaking of which, when are you going to get chubby?" Dean teased, placing kisses in a ring around Seamus' belly button.

"Hey!" Seamus squawked indignantly, "I'll have you know that when I get chubby it'll be all _your _fault." He squirmed as hands ran up and down his sides, coming to rest on his still flat tummy.

"You're goddamned right it will be," Dean growled possessively, "because it'll be _my _child inside of you."

"I can think of something else of yours I'd like to have inside of me," Seamus drawled in a husky voice, pulling Dean up by his shirt collar for an open mouthed kiss while wrapping his legs around his lover's waist.

---

_It's been worth it. _Seamus decides with finality later as he lies sweaty and entangled with his husband on their threadbare couch many rounds of lovemaking later.

All the nights of fighting over whether they were ready and if they could support a child. All the failed attempts that left Seamus in tears when the letter came. All the awkward meetings with healers filled with embarrassing personal questions and uncomfortable pauses. All the cold metal instruments stuck in places that manmade tools weren't meant to ever go.

It was worth it because he was pregnant with the love of his life's child. A little blond, kinky-haired baby whose locks' uniqueness could only be rivaled by the children of Ron and Hermione. He couldn't wait until it came time to fight over names.

A manic grin spread across his face as _their song _started playing through the speakers that he had neglected to turn off. He slowly petted his sleeping lover's hair and softly sang along, "_If you want to view paradise simply look around and view it. Anything you want to, do it. Want to change the world? There's nothing to it…_"


End file.
